


The Exasperated Publicist Makes Dinner

by Charlie Rotanev (Immerghensi)



Series: The Exasperated Publicist's Book of Days [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, RPF - Fandom
Genre: Based Heavily off of "The Cursing Mommy", Based on the post 'Luke looks like an exasperated zookeeper', Crack, My mom used to read it to me, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 20:11:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11111985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immerghensi/pseuds/Charlie%20Rotanev
Summary: Luke Windsor attempts to get things done with very limited success and a lot of cursing.





	The Exasperated Publicist Makes Dinner

Whether it's getting to events on time, scheduling interviews, or finding somewhere to relax, Tom Hiddleston's life is chock full of activities, which is why he needs (and has hired) me- Luke Windsor. I provide a lot of help on a daily basis managing tasks of all sizes. Sometimes it gets tough finding good places to eat within the nutritionist's guidelines, and so it falls on the shoulders of the Exasperated Publicist (aka ME) to prepare a meal. In today's installment, we will be going to the shops and preparing a nice pan fish in the home.

We start by digging our client (who needs to be fed before his flight) out of the crowd of fans and paps. Timing is essential to keeping someone on schedule yet appearing unhurried. This is no easy task, but with some gentle touches and aggressive whispering it should go along rather smoothly. Ah, here he comes now. There, perfect, job well done. Our second step now is to find where that driver Kevin or whoever it was went so we can drop Tom in the safety of his hotel while we get the ingredients. Keep your client close so they don't get sucked back into the void. The Exasperated Publicist has seen this happen many times and knows what to do in the event of losing someone, but the years have-- Tom? Tom??? Jesus fucking Christ I could've sworn he was here a second ago! He wsas right behind me! Goddamn six-foot-two neanderthal of kindness and- oh there he is.  
Phew. That was scary.   
Now that we have found our actor, we can move along with our day. Repeat the first step of pulling him out of the void and towards the goal. There are still many more steps that need to be done before we can have our home cooked meal.   
The next step is to find Kevin. Where the fuck is Kevin? I hired him to get us places not disappear for twenty goddamn minutes. And he's not picking up?? What the hell could he be doing that's so important?? Son of a duck, things aren't going as smoothly as planned. That's OK though- the Exasperated Publicist knows that the key to keeping it all together is keeping it all together. (And by 'keeping it all together' I mean quietly place you face in your palm and whisper 'fuck', then pretend like you didn't just do that.) Alright, so I guess we have no goddamn driver. Perfect. 

Now that we've come back into our calm state, I'm going to prepare one of Tom's drink things that he gets from a container of powder, just to tide him over. I guess we're going to have to walk it. In the event you have to walk it, take your-  
Oh FUCK ME DEAD COME ON are you serious? Where the fuck is he this time?? I should invest in a leash or something, one of those cute fuzzy ones they put on kids! Is that him? No, I'm not looking for you, Assbender, fuck off! I've got shit to handle. And don't even THINK about shining that shark smile our way. We've got to find Tom. The last thing a publicist wants is for their resident basket of sunshine and rainbows to say something innocently and dig himself into a publicity hole. God, I must be getting to old for this ... What am I even saying? We're almost the same age! Look at what this job has done to me- I'm a cross between a zookeeper and a nanny. God, this was not the way I thought my life was going to go....

Shit, there he is! We've got to get moving- the fact we have to walk all the way back to the room is going to mess us up a lot. We don't have time for you to air every single fan question- everyone knows this! The fans even know this!!! It looks like we may be able to salvage what remains of our plans for the day. This is extremely important- if we lose him again, he may get swallowed up by the hordes of his 'adoring' (that's not the right word... psychotic is more like it) fans. The though of it makes me want to--- I've got his attention! Ok, yes... Walk towards me... Ok! He's back to paying attention to me! We're actually making some progress towards making it back to the hotel!  
We've got about an hour left and it's a twenty minute walk to the grocer's and another 20 back, so the overall consensus is FUCK. Goddamn schedules and food and Tom being busy every second of all the time! What the fuck is this man even made out of? And goddamn Barb with the fucking nutritional bullshit and who in the name of fuck needs to follow this bullshit?! He's a grown ass-   
UGH! MWLEUGH! BLEURGH! I JUST DRANK SOME OF TOM'S GODDAMN POWDER DRINK AND IT'S HORRIBLE! WHAT THE FUCK IS BARB FEEDING THIS POOR GUY? WHY WOULD ANYONE EVER DRINK THIS SHIT?? I FEEL LIKE I NEED TO THROW UP! WHERE THE FUCK DID I PUT NY WATER I NEED MY WATER THIS IS WORSE THAN THAT TIME WITH THE PEPPERS. 

Ah, there we go, much better. Now that we don't have the taste of that godforsaken powder in our mouths, we can continue. Now if we check our time table, the plane is in two goddamn hours and we both know how much of a pain getting on those flying pieces of trash can be. There's no time to the hotel then to the shop at this point. Fan-fucking-tastic. I'll call ahead and at least make sure that someone can meet us downstairs with the luggage.  
The hotel is finally and sight and OH MY GOD IS THAT KEVIN. WHAT THE FUCK??? At least we can get to the airfield in time, but I mean come on man!! Whatever, fuck it. Now is the time to throw our luggage in the trunk and our asses in the car, not whine over where this dumbass has been for the past 45 minutes.   
It's comfortable in here. Very plush. Tom looks OK too. That's good. I feel better now that I'm sitting down. It's funny how that happens. Let's check the time table again.   
Well.... fuck.   
We find ourselves incredibly behind schedule again and in need of nourishment, so fuck the fish bake. I guess we're going to have to pick something up on the way there. Barb can fuck off somewhere else. Today has been a goddamn struggle. 

That's all from the Exasperated Publicist for today. Tune in next time for when the Exasperated Publicist attempts to sit through anther goddamn award ceremony.


End file.
